Uneasy Allies
by Singing Fire
Summary: SHIELD has dealt with everything before-aliens, monsters, super powered beings with an ego. Anything earth ending or city destroying, they can handle. but when someone with a grudge on SHIELD and a supernatural army come knocking, they'll have to call in the best. Set Season 6, after Like A Virgin.
1. Chapter 1

**If you have a problem with the summary, don't freak. I hate it, and i'm going to change it as soon as possible.**

**Disclaimer: i don't own Supernatural or Avengers. other people do who are not me. **

Honestly, this one was all on Sam.

He insisted on going to New York City, and no matter how much Dean told him it was a bad idea, Sam wouldn't listen.

_Come on Dean, last time the world thought aliens, it turned out to be fairies. We should at least check this out._

To Dean, it looked like everything had been taken care of. The aliens were gone, all because of some glorified team of freaks and weirdoes. Job well done; now moving on. But no, Sam had to be the stubborn bitch he was and insist they go to New York. And it was so unfair every time because he always gave him the puppy dog eyes.

Dean slammed his fist against the cold steel door and sighed. Next time Sam asked him for something, Dean was going to tell him where to stick his puppy dog eyes.

Really, they had only been in New York for a couple of hours. Impersonated a couple of feds, looked at some alien bodies that were really aliens and not some supernatural freak show (told you Sammy boy), the whole nine. They had been packing up in their motel room to leave for Missouri, when some sort of gas had started coming out of the vents and everything went dark.

It hadn't been supernatural, Dean had triple checked all the wards that morning. So that meant dealing with his least favorite species- people.

The lock on his door clicked, and Dean stood and stepped behind the door. It opened slowly outwards and the hottest agent he had ever seen stepped inside. She gave him a cold look, her red curly hair framing the superior look on her face. Dean's eyes lingered (he was a guy, what did you expect), and he asked "Didn't know supermodels were invited to the party."

The woman rolled her eyes, as if used to dealing with people like him, and pointed a hand gun at his face.

"Let's move along now, without some cheesy pickup lines. The Director will see you now."

Honestly, if Dean didn't' hate these people for drugging and kidnapping him in the first place, he might actually have been impressed. The whole place was like one giant, organized ant colony, everyone running around trying to please the big man on campus. Other agents were carrying reports and files and some really cool looking weapons around like they did this every day, while Dean was dragged along in handcuffs by some sexy cop chick. Everything was polished metal and looked high tech, way to high tech for Dean to even try figuring that out. That was more Sam's department.

The thought of his brother sent his big brother instincts into full throttle. He hadn't seen him since the motel room, and now that the chick was here, waving guns around like it was her job…

"Where's my brother?" he demanded, levelling her with a glare. The chick looked back, gave him a once over as if examining him like a science specimen, and said "Your brother is fine. He worked through the drugs faster, so we had to give him an extra dosage."

Dean's anger flared. No matter how hot this chick was, no one messed with his brother.

"If you hurt him, I swear to God-"

"What, you'll hit me with a pickup line and buy me dinner?" she asked, interrupting him.

She underestimated him.

Her mistake.

He would show her how bad ass Dean Winchester really was.

Reluctantly, he followed her up the few steps to the elevator, and the metal doors slid shut with a quiet hiss. Standing alone in the elevator, he looked around but found nothing he could use as a weapon. The place was a giant metal box.

"If you're thinking about escape, I would suggest not trying it. SHIELD has dealt with a lot more nasty people then you." The chick said from his left, not even pretending to be nice. Dean rolled his eyes, but it still pissed him off. This woman was a real bitch.

The doors slid open and the chick led him off and into a dark, semi lit meeting room. Almost like a corporate office, but a lot more intimidating, if Dean hadn't faced down the Devil before.

The black guy with the eye patch, lounging in one of the chairs, caught his attention first.

"So, you the casting for the role of Captain Douchebag, or do you normally drag in innocent people for a third degree?" Dean asked, his trademark smartass not able to resist mocking him about the eye patch.

"Oh, you are far from innocent, Dean Winchester." The man said, throwing down a thick file with his name emblazoned in black across the front.

"I didn't know we were on a first name basis." He remarked, pulling the file closer and leafing through it at random.

"You and your brother Sam have been quite a pain in the ass for the government as of late. It appears that you and your brother have died multiple times over the years. House fire killed your mother. Father took you on the road and you moved around under different names. Charged with several counts of murder, grave desecration, arson?" Eye Patch looked up at him and Dean shrugged, smirking slightly. These glorified county cops didn't know a thing about him and his brother. He had that on them at least.

"That's all fine and dandy, but what does this have to do with you sticking your nose in our business." Dean asked, reclining in one of the chairs.

The man sighed and said "I know what you and your brother specialize in. Supernatural and paranormal investigators. I've gotten word about you through, what is it, the hunting world?"

He felt his blood rush down to his feet and every smart ass answer he had in his arsenal wouldn't apply to this situation. He grasped at straws.

"Hunting?" he asked, giving his best shot at a laugh "My brother and I haven't been hunting in our lives. And supernatural is just crazy talk."

Eye Patch pulled a picture from his pocket and slid it across the table. Dean pulled it up to glance at it, but stopped. It was him and Sam, not a few hours ago, in the science lab with the alien bodies they had been checking out.

"SHIELD knows about you Dean, but it appears you don't know about SHIELD. Natasha, a crash course for the young man."

The woman walked forward out of the shadows and said "SHIELD is the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division, a government branch that protects the world from, other threats. Aliens, monsters, super powered beings with an ego. Seems we are in the same line of work."

Dean propped his feet on the table and felt royally screwed. This was not how he imagined their trip to New York going.

"Look, if this is about impersonating a FED, let me just explain…" he started, but the man cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Let's save ourselves from whatever excuse you try and spin and get straight to the punchline. We know you and your brother are hunters, and we need your help."

Dean almost swallowed his tongue. All masks ripped away from him, he turned to the one thing that never failed. Insult and smart ass his way out of here, hopefully with Sam in tow.

"Alright, so you know about hunting. What does this have to do with us?" he asked, sitting up and staring Eye Patch in the eyes – eye - whatever.

"This has everything to do with you. You are the best in your little fellowship group, and we needed the best on this case."

Dean felt his interest perk despite himself. "A case?"

Captain Hook sighed and said "It seems like we're dealing with a supernatural outbreak in New York. I have word from several trustee sources that you are the best in the business. And we only deal with the best."

* * *

Sam hated being drugged.

He hated to admit it, but he actually had been drugged several times in his rather short life. Pain drugs at hospitals and during makeshift first aid in whatever motel room they had at the time, kidnapped once by a rogue werewolf desperate to live. He wasn't sure if demon blood counted, but it definitely fell into his personal category. They always left him with a funny taste in his mouth, nausea, and a foggy brain that had him blurting whatever thought came to his mind. And with a person like Dean around, you just knew he was going to use that against you.

So when he awoke to a pounding headache and numb limbs, he could only groan from his spot on the floor.

The world was tilting in dizzying circles, and it took a lot of concentration to focus on just the door, near his left. He had been tossed carelessly on the floor, probably while he was unconscious because he didn't remember the impact. He lifted his head off the ground and nearly threw up on himself as the nausea hit.

Again, he hated being drugged.

He pulled himself slowly into a sitting position and propped up on one elbow, wiped a hand over his face. God, he felt like he was suffering the world's worst hangover.

The door opened with an echoing clang and he flinched, the movement jarring against his sensitive stomach and making his headache triple in pain. The blond man standing there he knew was not Dean, though he could only see a fuzzy outline. Just the way he was standing told him everything he needed to know. Most likely, this was his captor.

He knew immediately he had been disarmed of anything that could have been a weapon, including his flask of holy water and the pouch of salt their father always insisted they carry everywhere with them. He could only settle for scowling at where he assumed the man was standing and mutter "G'd damn you."

The man smirked and stepped inside the cell, closing the door behind him.

"Alright Goliath, let's have a chat." The man said conversationally, like they were meeting in a bar rather than his prison cell. He turned away from the man and said "N't talking t'you. Where's D'n."

The man shook his head, which made his head spin along with it. "I'm asking the questions here Sammy."

The burst of anger made him shout "Don't c'll me S'mmy!" which only helped in worsening his headache. He clutched his head in his hands and grumbled "What did you do t'me?"

The man smiled and sat beside him, and Sam knew that for all his bulk, he was weak as a kitten right now and couldn't exactly shove him away without upsetting his own precarious balance. So he settled for glaring at him sullenly like a pouty five year old and ignoring him.

"What we did to you was your own fault. We didn't think your Gigantor body would work through the drugs so fast. We had to give you a booster shot or else you would have taken my head off." The blonde man said, shrugging and leaning on the cold metal wall.

He did remember that, faintly. He had woken up in a plane, with Dean tied down and out for the count beside him. Some guy was trying to tie him down, and he had shoved him aside and attempted to stand. Several more people came rushing towards him and he had felt the pinch of a needle in his bicep before everything had gone dark again and he woke up here.

He grunted, and the blonde man seemed to think of that as permission to continue.

"You and your brother were detained here and I presume your brother is speaking to the Director right now about his proposition."

Sam glared at the man and said "We dn't work f'r demons."

The man smiled, as if amused. "Demons? Man, we must have given you too much sedative. Demons aren't real."

Sam just rolled his eyes. If the demon wanted to play stupid, he wasn't going to fall for it. And he couldn't exactly stab him with Ruby's knife (since it wasn't on him in the first place). But if the demon wasn't trying to kill him, it only meant that he wanted to deal.

"M'not making a deal with you hell boy." He grunted, pushing himself away from the demon slowly. The blonde man shrugged and said "Man, you must be as high as the plane right now. Whatever, let's just talk."

Sam pushed the man, and surprisingly he fell backwards. He stood on unsteady feet. "I don't make deals with demons. Take a hint." He spoke slowly, making his words as clear and precise as he could. He swung his fist and somehow hit the man again. But he was still under the influence of drugs and the man was prepared now and on edge. Blondie tripped him and called out for something, but Sam couldn't hear over the sound of blood pounding through his head and his stomach rebelling whatever drug was pumping through his veins. The door opened with a thundering clang and his headache made him want to just bang his head against a wall until the pressure was lifted.

Then there was another sharp pinch on his arm and he fell into darkness again.

* * *

Dean couldn't stop himself.

He laughed right in Captain Hook's smarmy little face.

"You think that we'll _work _with you, after you drugged us and kidnapped us! Man, you have no people skills at all, do you?"

Eye Patch was still serious though, and Dean had to resist the urge to laugh again.

"The fate of the city is at stake, and you're the only people that can help." The man said.

"Oh, how many times have I heard that? _The world is ending; Lucifer broke out of his jack-in-the-box._ I think me and Sammy have more than filled the requirement for helping the world. Find some other hunter; there are more than just us. Let someone else save the people. Me and Sammy, we've had more than enough on our plate since day one."

He opened the door, and made to step out and the hot red chick was in his face again, less than a couple inches from him.

"Listen, I don't like working with stuck up, know it all bastards who think that because they hunt a couple monsters makes them pro. But you were requested, personally."

Dean snorted and said "Alright, I'll bite. Who invited us to jump on the crazy train?"

Eye Patch scowled, and said bitterly "That is for me to know, and you to never find out."

Dean rolled his eyes. "So, you're asking for me and my brother to trust you, even though you kidnapped us and forced me to be here!"

He could almost see when Eye Patch's posture turned threatening. He stalked closer and said in a low voice "SHIELD is known for getting what they want. By different ways of…persuasion."

Dean raised an eyebrow and said "Dude, I went to hell. I can handle whatever version of 'torture' you can throw at me."

Captain Hook still gave him the creepy one eyed stare, and only said "There are more methods to convince someone then just physical pain."

Dean rolled his eyes and said "Whatever douchebags. I'm out of here, and I'm taking my brother with me."

He turned on the hot chick and said "Take me to him."

She crossed her arms over her chest and said "What makes you think I'll take orders from you?"

Suddenly, red lights flashed from above, and a blaring alarm screeched overhead.

"What the hell is that?" Dean shouted over the noise, and he spotted the chick and Eye Patch trade a look.

"I'll take you to your brother." The red head said, and she started towards the elevator. He glanced back at Eye Patch, but he was already leaving in another direction.

"Come on, what are you, deaf?" She asked.

_I got to find Sammy and get out of this nuthouse. _He thought to himself before following her.

* * *

The screeching alarm brought Sam into of the haze of semi-consciousness. Eyes squinting against flashing lights and the headache that threatened to split his skull, he stumbled to his feet and leaned drunkenly against the wall.

"_One engine down! Repeat, one engine down!" _a robotic voice overhead blared. Sam didn't know what that meant, but it sounded bad. Of course, everything that was within ten feet of him and Dean either broke or went bad or died.

That brought his brother back to mind. He looked around, but Dean wasn't there. Where was he? He wouldn't leave him behind, even on a plane in the air.

He lurched to the side along with the ship and stumbled, cracking his head against the far wall. His headache erupted like a volcano, fire burning his eyes and making his nerves scream in agony. He grimaced and held his forehead in his hands. Where was Dean? Dean could fix this, he always fixed everything.

"D'n!" he called out thickly, rubbing his eyes and feeling all of five years old again. "D'n!"

The world was spinning in lazy circles, that sped up faster and faster with every breath. He knew he was going to pass out soon, but he needed to see Dean."

The huge metal door flew open, and a tall figure was standing, silhouetted in the shadows. Sam shook his head and all he saw was red.

"Sammy!" he heard a familiar voice call. He looked up and touched his hairline. His fingers came away red. The color was really bright and it drew his attention, until the voice called again.

"Sammy!" hands were shaking his shoulders and Sam blinked, recognizing his brother standing not three inches away, holding him upright as the ship tossed and turned.

"D'n." he whispered happily before his legs collapsed underneath him and he pitched towards the ground.

"I got you Sammy." Dean grumbled, holding him half upright. Sam blinked at his brother and frowned. When did he get there? He thought his brother hated him, what with the demon blood, and getting chummy with Ruby and the apocalypse starting all on his head. He felt tears in his eyes. He didn't want Dean mad at him. Dean was his brother, his superhero. He couldn't have him mad at him.

"M'sorry D'n." he mumbled, and clutched Dean's wrist. "M'really s'rry."

Dean patted his head and said "I know little brother, but let's get you out of here before you go all Samantha and start really crying."

He felt himself being heaved on Dean's shoulder and tugged along. His feet wouldn't stay still underneath him and he glared at them.

"Stupid feet." He grumbled, and Dean chuckled.

"Yeah Sam, if only your Gigantor feet were working."

Sam felt a lot better now that Dean was here. Dean mad everything alright, that's all he ever knew. So he knew Dean didn't mind when his eyes closed and he fell limp.

He felt a hand slapping his cheek gently. "Sammy, stay awake. Come on Sam."

But he was so tired, and Dean was here. Everything would be okay; he would take care of it. So he let the darkness that had been waiting at the edges of his mind pull him in and he felt a smile on his face.

* * *

"Shit." was all Dean could think to say. His brother flopped loosely, like a rag doll as he barely held them both upright. He groaned and glared at the hot chick, standing by the door and watching the scene with dead eyes.

"Come on; help a guy out a little bit." He shouted at her, petting Sam's hair when he flinched. He felt disgust pool in his gut when his hand came away slightly red and he wiped the half dried blood on his jean leg.

The red head rolled her eyes but took Sam's other arm and slung it around her shoulders, even though she was a foot and a half shorter then Sam at least. But some of the weight was off his shaking arms and that made him feel a lot more confident.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded as they carried Sam through the chaotic mess that had erupted around them. People scrambled around talking about fires and broken machines and falling. Dean ignored the spike of fear that dug into his heart. Really, after all he had faced, he was still stuck with the heights thing. He would have thought his fear would have shifted to the Devil, or the apocalypse or something like that.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his brain, he went into big brother auto mode. Feeling Sam's pulse, quick and fluttering and weak under his fingertips, he glared at the chick beside his brother. Really, if she hadn't been helping him at that moment, he would have chucked her in the cell and left her there to rot.

"How many drugs did you pump into him?" he questioned, checking Sam's breathing (short gasps) quickly before hiking his brother higher on his shoulder and moving towards the exit.

The red head shrugged, and Dean pointedly rolled Sam's head to rest on his shoulder and away from the chick. He didn't trust anyone in this freak show circus camp.

Then the room pitched and they stumbled forward, and then slid to the ground and fell. The entire floor went 45 degrees and everything not attacked to the floor tipped to the ground and slid to the opposite wall. Dean felt his stomach roll, the lasting effect of the drugs making him slightly less steady on his feet then he would like. Swallowing his fear, he turned and demanded "What the hell is happening?"

_"__Alert to all agents. Alert to all agents. We have been boarded. We have been-" _the robotic voice cut off with a snap and the static of electricity and Dean felt his hands coil into fists.

"Castiel!" he shouted as the ship tilted again, as if falling from the sky. And he did not just think that thought because they were going to be fine. Perfectly safe in a falling metal death trap they had been kidnapped and forced onto.

"Cas, get your feathery ass down here!" he shouted, pretending his voice wasn't pitchy with fear as the alarms blared louder and the red lights flashed in a hypnotic rhythm.

The red head shook her head and said "You're crazy! What the hell are you shouting for!"  
"You called." a familiar voice said behind him. Dean spun around to find the familiar accountant angel standing there, as if it didn't bother him they were plummeting to certain death. Then all of Sam's weight crashed on his shoulders as the red head pulled a gun, aiming for Cas square between the eyes.

"Who the hell are you? How did you just appear like that?" she demanded, taking a step away from both of them.

"I'm an angel of the Lord, Natasha Romanov. Dean, we have to leave immediately. I would guess we have about two minutes before the entire ship crashes into the ocean and sinks to the bottom." Cas said, and Dean's stomach gave a sickening twist.

"Great Cas, let's get out of here." He said, grasping the angels shoulder. Only for transportation purposes, not because he had trouble maintaining his balance. At least, that's what he told himself anyway. Cas took Sam's limp arm and slung it over his shoulders, relieving him of the heavy weight of his comatose big little brother. Honestly, the kid ate carrot sticks and celery, and he still grew way beyond six foot.

Ignoring the red head with the gun, he pointed somewhere over his shoulder and said "Maine is nice this time of year. We can head there."

Cas looked at him weirdly and asked "You will not ask me to save the ship, along with the four hundred sixty three people on board?"

Dean glanced at the red head, Natasha, and said "Eh, they don't seem like the greatest of people. Let's get the hell out of Dodge."

"We're over New York; we're nowhere near anyplace called Dodge." Cas said blankly, and Dean shook his head. There was never any getting through with this guy.

"It's an expression. Let's just haul ass and split town."

"You're just going to leave us to die, when you can save us with, whatever your friend is there." Natasha said, gesturing to Cas.

"She's correct Dean. It's not right. I thought you and Sam saved people." Cas looked to him and Dean sighed.

"Fine, save the ship. But as soon as you do, we're leaving." He looked at Natasha and said "Tell your boss the answers no. There are other hunters in the world; you can call up one of them. Plenty of them will work for a little dough. But not me and definitely not Sammy."

He nodded to Cas, and he vanished to the sound of rustling feathers. Instantly, the ship stopped tilting and came to shuddering halt midair. The floor levelled out and Sam groaned lowly beside him. Leaning his little brother down and propping his head at his elbow, he brushed hair away from Sam's face and whispered "Hey, earth to Sam. You in there kiddo?"

Sam's eyes opened blearily, eyes skipping around the place in a blur of motion.

"D'n." he called out, one hand reaching out and touching his nose.

Sam smiled and said in a loopy voice "Everything's spinning."

Dean shook his head. Every time Sam got high enough to be funny, it was in some dangerous situation where Dean wasn't able to appreciate this in its full hilarity. He sighed and glanced back at red head.

She glanced between him and where Cas had been standing seconds ago.

"Where the hell did he go?" she demanded, shifting her aim from empty air to his chest.

Dean turned his back slightly on her and said "He went to save your flying castle. You're welcome. Now please, I got a little brother whose going to become a sobbing mess in the next thirty seconds, so a little privacy."

Natasha blinked at him, but her gun didn't move.

Suddenly, a blonde guy skidded in from the hall and the man started talking immediately.

"What the hell just happened? The ship was about to crash to the ground when the engine was repaired, like in a split second. All the computers frizzed out and we didn't catch any video footage."

Then he noticed him and Sam sitting on the ground. Shaking his head, the blonde guy ignored them and continued "The Director wanted those two," he jabbed his thumb in their direction "brought in to see him immediately."

There was the fluttering sound of wings and Cas was standing right behind the blonde guy. There was a guy, with salt and pepper hair and coal black eyes glowing with murderous rage, scowling at Dean, the black Sharpie devil's trap drawn on his forehead making him immobile and unable to move even a muscle.

"Demons attacked the ship." Cas deadpanned, as if the demon prisoner he had wasn't clue enough. "And I captured one to interrogate."

Dean grinned at Cas and said "Alright, time for some bitches to pay."

He stalked over to the demon Cas held, but the blonde guy stood between them.

"What do you mean demons?" he asked, staring at him straight in the eye.

"Turn around douchebag. That's a demon. Now move out of the way, let the adults handle this." Dean said, pushing the man aside.

"Hey, Winchester." Natasha pointed her gun at Sam's head. "We need answers, and no smart ass remarks are going to cut it."

Dean tensed, and felt his already deep set hate and urge to kill them grow stronger.

"Cas." He said. The angel teleported, or whatever angels did, behind Natasha and her gun appeared in his hand, which he crushed in a fist. She stared at him with a blank expression, which was the only thing Dean gave her credit for. Well, that and the tight cat suit she wore.

"Don't touch my brother, or think you have anything that can scare us." Dean said, pushing Blondie aside and jabbed the demon in the chest.

"Who sent you to attack the plane?" Dean demanded, and the demon snorted.

"Like I would tell you dimwitted fools. I'm more worried about what the boss would do if I talked then if I told to you bastards." The demon scoffed, and glared at Dean pointedly.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to Natasha.

"Where did you store our weapons?" he asked her. Natasha crossed her arms and said nothing, her lips pursed.

The blonde guy just gave him a funny look and asked "You really think we would tell you guys."

"Your weapons are in a locker in the flying machine near here. About three hallways down, locker 2847." Cas answered for them. Dean glanced at Cas and said "Thanks Cas."

Cas nodded and said "I must leave you for now Dean. My forces in Heaven are demanded my presence. I must attend to them."

Dean nodded and said "Wait a second, you're just going to-"

The angel vanished from sight, the demon vanishing along with him.

"Leave us. Damn it." He finished and sighed. Really, he had to leave this instant, with two very pissed off looking government agents standing there glaring at him.

Natasha looked around, as if waiting for the angel to appear behind her and throw her from the plane.

Blondie ignored his partner and said "Alright, you're coming with us. The Director will want to hear about your 'angel' buddy."

The sarcastic tone in the man's voice made him want to roll his eyes, but Dean withheld the urge in favor of holding his semi-conscious brother closer.

"Hell no." he told the woman who he was starting to subconsciously call bitch.

Natasha rolled her eyes, as if amused he defied a direct order. That bitch needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

"Come on, you don't get a choice." Blondie told him with a shake of his shoulder, jostling Sam and making him groan in complaint.

Dean gave him the darkest scowl he could and growled "You try and hurt my brother again, well, it's your funeral."

The blonde guy laughed, as if death threats made by Dean Winchester were something to laugh about.

Well, he'd learn the hard way.

* * *

Nick Fury had been in the business of SHIELD for a long time, longer than most agents. He had climbed his way up the ladder of power until he reached the top, as Director. He didn't enjoy the position, but he thought he did a better job than most of the other jack asses that had applied.

Now, with his helicarrier falling from the sky and most agents turning to him demanding "What do we do?" he cursed his position to hell and prayed to God that something would stop them all from dying.

And it turned out God was listening. The computers all frizzed out and crackled, and suddenly the helicarrier up righted itself, and all the machines were back online to reveal nothing super-powered nearby.

So he had called Clint and told him to bring the two Winchester prisoners up to him immediately.

Sitting at the table and giving Clint a scowl, he demanded "I ordered you to bring them immediately. Does immediately sound like five minutes later?"

Clint looked down at his hands and said "Sorry sir, but we had some, complications."

And the two complications half walked, half stumbled through the door. Dean Winchester, with some sort of Goliath giant's arm slung over his shoulder, hobbled across the room and gently deposited him in one of the chairs. The man had the glazed look of someone drugged up so high he might as well be flying. Dean sat down and rolled his shoulders, and waved a hand in front of his drugged brother.

"Sammy, eyes on me." He told him with a stern voice, and the man's head lolled in his brother's direction.

"D'n." he moaned softly, and blinked blearily at Fury himself.

"Who r'you?" he slurred, and Fury was actually surprised that he was even this aware.

"I'm Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. And if you don't mind Sam, I would talk to your brother." He said, staring the defiant man directly in the eyes. Dean met his gaze steadily, and asked "What the hell did you do to my brother?"

He looked to Clint, who was in charge of the younger Winchester's care and interrogation, obviously neither had been accomplished.

"Barton, what happened?" he demanded, and Cling shrugged.

"I went to interrogate the prisoner as soon as he was coherent. He resisted and I was forced to sedate him again. I was just going with orders, sir." Clint said, straight faced and serious. Fury shook his head. If he knew that the second Winchester would have been drugged till he was sky high, he would have left both brothers with Natasha to deal with.

"I apologize for the inconvenience. We will send your brother to our infirmary and they can care for him." Fury said, but Dean stood and knocked his chair back.

"No. You will not touch my brother. We are leaving, and we are leaving now." He said, silently daring Fury to deny him.

"You see gentlemen; I have what your hunter friend classified as a 'demon problem.' Countless attacks have been made on SHIELD; all missing civilian people possessed by something that made their eyes turn black. We had no choice but to kill him to keep ourselves alive. I was told by your hunter friend that you handle these types of problems. Now I want to know is, will you work for us?"

Dean propped his feet on the table, sitting in a new chair, but still kept up the smart ass appearance that he had maintained since regaining consciousness.

"What's in it for us?" he asked.

"Excuse me? I was aware that it was your job and that you two do this out of the kindness of your heart, whoever it may be." Fury said, glancing at Natasha and Clint, who promptly left the room and closed the door behind them.

"We have gotten nothing from you government stuck ups then a couple of fake murder charges and a whole shit load of trouble. Why the hell should we help you, if you do nothing but get in the way and create a whole lot of problems for us?" Dean ranted, waving his hands around and slamming his fist on the table.

It only took a few words. "I'll wipe your records."

Dean stopped and stared at him.

"I'll wipe your records. Any criminal charges laid against you, will be deleted and lost. So when you finish your mission to save the world, you can start a life that doesn't involve a federal prison for the next fifty years. A fresh start, if you want." Fury said.

"And all it would cost you was a couple days, maybe a week of your time. So, is it a deal?"

**for all you people who would probably be asking in reviews, this takes place after Like A Virgin, and before The Man who Knew Too Much in season six for supernatural. and this is also before The Winter Soldier for Avengers. Just saying. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews everyone. Watch out, I think I go a bit crazy on the 'big boy' words here.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Avengers. **

Dean couldn't deny it. He was tempted, even just a little bit.

There was no way in hell that he would care; he was a hunter and would be until he died. But maybe Sam. He had just gotten his life back and newly restored his soul from being Lucifer's punching bag, and if anyone deserved their dream life after years of shit, it was Sam.

But really, when did the government ever secure a deal with no hidden strings attached.

"What's the deal? You gonna give us I.D.s that make us your agents? Or some criminal guy you have locked up so you can just send us to federal prison?" Dean demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Fury gave him a stink eye and said "There is no catch. Help out SHIELD now, and you can walk away a free man."

Dean scowled and asked slowly "And if we don't, say, help you out?"

Fury shrugged and said "You do have several counts of homicide on your head there Dean. I'm sure the NYPD would be happy to take you in once we land."

There was the mousetrap he was expecting.

It was never a simple job anymore. There was always an alternative motive, or some little thing that they missed or didn't do that came back to bite them in the ass sooner than later. A salt and burn could lead to a hell raising flashback, or a simple move to save your brother jump starts the apocalypse. Everything has consequences, Dean learned over the years, and sometimes, payback was a bitch.

But really, it was that or sit in a cell for the rest of their lives.

Glaring heavily at Fury, he grunted and said "Fine. One week, and we split town with no criminal record.

Fury didn't even smile, as if his face was carved from one pissed off boulder. "I'm sure Romanov can show you to your temporary place of residence."

As if waiting outside for her signal (Dean wouldn't doubt it if she was), Natasha strutted in and said "Come on, we'll drop your brother off at the infirmary on the way."

Dean knew grumbling and groaning was not going to get him anywhere, and preferring to stay as far away from Captain Hook as possible, he heaved his slightly unsteady brother to his feet and dragged him from the dim meeting room.

"You have the rest of the day off Dean, but I will speak with you in the morning." Eye Patch called after him, and Dean rolled his eyes.

Sure, like Dean listened to any other stick up his ass guy in a suit other than Cas.

Sam smiled a little, and his eyes skipped all over the place kind of like a kid on a sugar high. Dean couldn't help but grin as his brother looked up at him with that five year old face, like Dean could solve all the world's problems.

God, it had been years since Dean has last seen that look on his face. And to be brutally honest, Dean kind of enjoyed.

"Come on Sammy, its bed rest for you for the rest of your life." Dean told him brother softly, when Sam clutched his ears at Fury's loud voice.

"S'loud." Sam grumbled, the happy kid gone in the face of this grumpy, pissy and bitchy adult.

Dean nodded and muttered "I know. Come on, nap time for Sam."

Sam got up, a little wobbly and with Dean holding him upright for the most part, they made their way out of the meeting room and down to the elevator.

The happy Sammy was back and he stumbled a little bit, and scowled at his feet.

"Stupid feet." His brother mumbled, and Dean shook his head.

"Yes Sam, blame the feet, and not the morons who doped you up." He told his brother in a whisper, staring daggers into the hot red head's back. Romanov was obviously immune, and just kept on walking with the little sashay in her step that brought attention to how nicely tight the cat suit was.

Sam seemed to be sensing his thoughts and said in a very serious voice for a loopy Sam "Upstairs brain Dean."

Dean gave his brother a sharp look, but he just grinned like a kid and poked him between the eyes.

"Knew what you were thinking. Can read your mind." Sam mumbled, and Dean glanced ahead, pulling his brother into the small elevator. Romanov glanced at him and gave him another once over, but this one seemed like she was trying to assess him, preparing herself for a fight.

Dean grinned.

Damn right she better be worried.

Cause in his personal opinion, he was pretty bad ass.

The elevator doors slid shut and they were locked in a small silver room about the size of a broom closet. And Dean knew how big broom closets were, from previous visits there during high school.

But Dean could only assume that it was when the doors hissed shut was when Sam freaked out.

His breathing picked up and he could feel Sam's pulse going breakneck speeds against his shoulder, where Sam's head was resting.

"NO!" Sam suddenly shouted, but Dean was prepared for when his legs gave out and he was half held upright by Dean.

"No, no, no, no,nonononononono." Sam muttered under his breath, eyes wide and unseeing. There was a sharp twist in his gut and Dean realized what was going on.

Locked space. Mind weakened from whatever the hell the feds had pumped into Sam's blood.

God damn the Cage and Lucifer's smarmy little face.

"Sam." Dean grabbed either side of Sam's face and brought his face to look straight at Dean. "Sammy, you aren't there anymore. C'mon Sam, snap out of it."

Sam's arms and legs were flailing around, hitting the walls and Dean and a pair of tight black clad legs.

"What the hell is he doing?"

Dean had honestly forgotten Romanov was even in the elevator, and he turned on her sharply to find her kneeling beside Dean.

"Stay out of it bitch, he's fine." Dean snapped at her, focusing back on Sam as he should have been. Sam's shaking was weakening, and his head lolled on the floor, half lidded eyes blind to the world and hazy.

"Sam, wake up." Dean demanded softly, pulling Sam up by his shoulders and placing his head on his leg instead of cold metal floor.

"You're not there anymore Sam, wake up." Dean told him. Sam didn't respond and Dean cursed everything and anything that came to mind to blame for this, especially God.

"I warned you that this would happen Dean."

Dean didn't even glance over his shoulder, recognizing Cas's voice in nagging mode.

"Yeah, well it's all you angel dicks' fault, with all your destiny crap." Dean grumbled, thumbing back Sam's eyelid and checking pupil reaction. "I was trying to save my brother from hell."

Cas knelt beside Dean and examined Sam like a doctor, with his frown in place. He palmed Sam and his eyes flew open, faintly glowing white and his entire lanky body going rigid. As soon as Cas removed his hand, Sam flopped boneless to the metal floor and he mumbled something under his breath.

"He should be fine, just needs a few minutes of rest. The drugs that were administered weakened his mental defenses, and that let some memories slip through." Cas reported, and Dean withheld the urge to roll his eyes. Really, he only did so cause right now, Cas and his hell crazy brother were his only allies in the joint, and he wasn't about to piss off the one who was probably their only escape route out of crazy town.

"Hey!" Romanov called from behind him, and he instinctively knew she had drawn another gun from somewhere and was taking careful aim at Cas. "Don't move. Either of you. What the hell is going on here?"

Cas glanced back at the red head, as if she were only a minor annoyance and settled his glare on his weapon. The black metal burned red hot and Romanov dropped it with a hiss, the metal smoking slightly and her hands red from the minimal contact.

"Your mortal weapons have no effect on me, Natasha Romanov, so I would suggest you keep them on your person. It is less annoying that way."

Dean grinned to himself. Tell it to her straight Cas.

Romanov scowled, her hands drifting to her waist, but didn't draw another gun. That brought another thought to mind. Where the hell did all those guns keep coming from? There was no obvious bulges of the weapons, and the cat suit was _really _tight, in a way that would have had him flirting with her in a bar on any other occasion.

But here, on a giant flying ship, all he saw was her in all her bitchy, hot as hell glory.

Cas turned to him and helped him pull Sam to his feet, where he slumped towards Dean. He braced his knees, because his brother was a _heavy _Goliath.

The doors opened with a ding, sliding silently open. Who knew a closing door could cause so much shit to hit the fan.

"Where's the infirmary?" he demanded, turning on Romanov. She crossed her arms over her impressive chest and rolled her eyes.

"I was ordered to escort you there. I will take you there personally, and make sure you don't cause anymore shit to happen along the way. That means I don't hand out directions."

Dean lifted his hand for a moment to flash her his middle finger, before turning to Cas.

"You want to give us a lift there?" he asked. Cas gripped his shoulder and barely a second later, they were standing in the middle of a boring white room lined with what he assumed were army cots, but geared up with a built in IV and high tech in a way that other hospitals would kill for.

Several doctors that had been wandering around tending patients turned and openly gawked at them, while several of the patients, one with a broken arm, tensed and looked around for something to use as a weapon.

"Hey, I need a doctor over here!" he shouted, gesturing to Sam, who was about to slide to the floor to hibernate for the next ten years. One of the nurses, a young brunette woman (damn, there were too many hot chicks working for these dicks) came over and helped him carry Sam to one of the empty beds, farthest from the rest of the room's occupants.

"Thanks." Dean's knees had been shaking with his brother's weight, and his neck was damp with sweat.

The nurse nodded, not saying anything as she took Sam's vitals and not wasting any time. Dean kind of liked this nurse.

"Looks like his body's taken too much sedative. He'll just have to sleep it off and let his body reset a little. He'll be fine though." The nurse said, giving him a shy smile and tucking a curl of hair behind her ear.

For the first time since he was forced aboard the crazy train, Dean felt relief sweep over him, and he swiped back Sam's bangs from his forehead.

"When is he going to wake up?" he asked.

The nurse shrugged. "Could be anywhere from three to seven hours. Even then, he'll be drowsy and confused for a while."

Dean nodded to the nurse, and she moved on to attend to her other patients. Turning to Cas, he asked "What'd you do with the demon?"

Cas tugged on the cuff of his sleeve and reported "I have moved him to Bobby's basement. He should be able to watch him until I can retrieve him."

Dean nodded, and Romanov jogged into the infirmary, and cast her eyes around before settling on them. She gave them both a dark scowl, and her hands twitched to where Dean assumed she had another hidden weapon.

"You dicks don't understand the word 'wait' do you." She snapped, looking more pissed then before. Dean shrugged.

Natasha flashed him her own middle finger before turning her undivided attention to Cas, and demanded in an expectant voice. "Who the hell are you?"

Cas glanced at Dean and said "I am Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

Natasha gave him a cursory once over and said "If you're an 'angel of the Lord', where are you wings, hotshot?"

Castiel didn't say anything in response, but tilted his head to the side as if he was listening to the voices.

"My forces are calling me once again. I will not be able to return for some time." Cas reported, then disappeared without warning.

He cursed him under his breath and grumbled "I am getting you a bell when you get back."

Romanov glanced around the room and turned on him immediately.

"What the hell is going on here?" she demanded, crossing her arms in a way that Dean could tell that she would not let him leave until she got some sort of answer.

Dean grinned. Time to turn the situation to his advantage.

"Well, that depends on what you can tell me." Dean gave him his trademark smart ass look, watching her scowl deepen.

"I don't just hand out government secrets to assholes who just ask for them." Romanov crossed her arms again and tilted her chin in a stubborn show.

Dean crossed his arms, making a point of standing between Ginger and Sam.

"Listen up chick, I don't have to take any of this crap from you." he turned his back on her, sat in one of the chairs at Sam's bedside, and propped his feet on Sam's mattress. He raised an eyebrow. Her move.

Romanov didn't show any outward facial reaction. But John Winchester had taught his son more than how to shoot straight with any type of gun on the planet. He could see the way her shoulders tensed slightly, her posture changed to straight-backed and serious, and her hands tightened into fists.

She was frustrated with him. Dean smirked to himself. Oh he knew how to play this silent game. He had grown up with Sam after all, and that kid could say everything with a look, no words spoken. And Sam was prone to silent bitch moments at times, especially when they were younger.

Instead of probably out cussing him when he was suffering a hangover, Romanov lowered her crossed arms and almost growled "I will be back to speak with you later, when your brother his coherent."

She turned on heel and strutted out of the room, and Dean wouldn't admit it to anyone if he had watched her shapely figure in that black cat suit that was tight in all the right places. He didn't know he could be attracted to and hate one person as much as this red head.

He leaned back in his chair and tried to make himself comfortable. He was in for a long night, and had a lot to think on.

* * *

Sam felt like he was looking through dirty glass, everything hazy and blurry and moving slowly in front of him. Dean was flipping through some porn magazine he had gotten from somewhere, Sam wasn't going to ask, and had his feet propped up inches from his face. He scowled at the bottom of Dean's muddy boots. There was a piece of dried blue gum stuck to the heel of his left foot and Sam found that hilarious.

He snorted and clumsily shoved the foot aside, his arms not moving exactly how he told them to move, which resulted in him just girl slapping Dean's ankle.

"Hey Sammy, are you firing on all pistons?" Dean asked, his face suddenly replacing his feet. Sam jumped and frowned, trying to put the blur of color into focus.

"Y're face is sw'mmn." He grunted out, his heavy tongue mangling his words. That brought his attention to the fact that his mouth tasted like he had just had cotton balls stuffed down his throat. He was thirsty.

"W'tr." He moaned, feebly reaching for the glass of clear liquid sitting on the table to his left. His brother, the mind reader that he was, had already reached for the glass and brought his to his mouth. The cool liquid washed away the dry, bitter taste and he gulped down the entire glass, swatting at Dean's arm when he tried to pull the glass away.

The nausea that had been lying dormant in his stomach so far made itself known, making his insides feel like it was on a roller coaster.

He felt the color drain from his face and bile climb up the back of his throat. He gagged, forcing himself onto his side away from Dean and retched loudly, vomit splattering on the tile floor. Then there was a trash can there, and he gratefully threw up whatever meager contents were in his stomach.

He retched a couple more times at the smell the puke and turned his head away, falling back against pillow.

"I told you that was all going to come back up again." Dean's nagging voice drifted into his ears, and Sam couldn't find an appropriate snarky remark, his brain was so tired and confused.

"Feel like shit." He grumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes and trying to bury half his face into the pillow. He could hear Dean's short laugh and his response of "You look like shit too little brother."

"Wh're we?" he groaned, peeking one eye out to glare at his brother.

"We're still in crazy town, if that's what we're asking. Seems like this flying castle only deals with 'the best hunters in the business'."

Sam felt himself crack a grim smile and said "Hope they d'nt know w'cause the pr'blms."

Dean shook his head and said "They drugged us at the motel and it turns out you're a real heavy headed person. They drugged you up to the gills, and you were pretty hilarious, all that stuff you were blabbing to the government douchebags."

"H'w-"

"You've been out for about four hours, four and forty five minutes if you've been counting." Dean shrugged, answering his question before it was out of his mouth. Sam resisted the urge to shake his head with fond amusement. Dean had probably been switching his focus between the clock and him since he had been dropped off here.

Sam groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes against the harsh light to peer around. The room was all white, with several other beds lined up against the walls. Their corner was pretty secluded, and Sam saw several pairs of eyes on them from some of the bed occupants.

"N'such th'ng s'privacy?" he asked, turning away from the other people and back on his brother.

Dean shrugged and propped his feet up again, closer to the end of his bed rather than right in his face.

"Well, turns out we got ourselves a case Sammy boy. These dicks seem to have a demon problem, and we were the best exterminators slash detectives in town." Dean smirked and said "Wait till Bobby gets a load of that."

Sam frowned. His memories were a little fuzzy (nonexistent), but he took Dean's word for it.

He focused on making his words as clear as possible, but the fog in his head was still thick and heavy.

"How'd they find us?" he put his hands on the bed and shuffle himself to a half sitting position, Dean's hand on his bicep to keep him from toppling sideways.

Dean shrugged. "They showed me a picture of us at the lab, so I guess they've been following us by both stalker and camera all day, waiting till we were alone or something. Kinky, right?"

Sam shrugged, and tried to get his thoughts into order.

"Cas?" he wondered, pretty sure he had seen the angel sometime earlier today.

Dean's face turned to a scowl and he said "He's popped in a few times, but hasn't had much time to chat. He's with his angel buds right now, throwing his little water balloon war upstairs."

"So, this 'Cas' is an angel."

Sam jumped, cursing his drugged hunter senses, and turned to see a fiery red haired woman standing in the entrance of the infirmary, leaning against the doorframe. She strutted in, the way she walked bringing attention to the tight cat suit she wore. Sam averted his eyes, feeling awkward, while his brother sighed and the mask of cool indifference he saved only for people he hated slipped back into place.

"What do you want bitch?" he asked, and the red head dragged a chair over to Sam's right side before sitting down.

"Well, since your brother is more or less coherent for the time being, I wanted to speak with you both." She crossed her arms and legs in unison, and raised one eyebrow.

"That won't be a problem, will it?"

"It is." Dean deadpanned, scowling at the woman. Sam, honestly, was half surprised he hadn't started hitting on her or tried to get laid yet. Judging from the look Dean was giving her, the woman had rubbed him the wrong way and done something to put her permanently in the 'hate' zone. Which meant, she had probably either threatened Sam, Bobby, or the Impala.

The red head didn't look bothered by Dean's response, focusing in him instead and jumped on the opportunity of silence from Dean.

"What was with the seizure in the elevator?" she demanded. Sam blinked, and took a couple seconds for his mind to register the words.

"What seizure?" he asked, his eyes swivelling to Dean, who was carefully avoiding meeting his gaze. He felt his heart rate pick up pace, the monitor above his head reporting the change in rhythm.

Dean didn't look at him at all, instead, glaring at the woman across from him, one hand white knuckling the railing on his cot.

Oh shit.

He'd had a seizure in the elevator, and suddenly there was a flash of white hot fire and clanking black iron chains, and a feeling of utter panic and outright fear.

The monitor above him protested his stuttering breath and racing heart, and Sam squeezed his eyes closed.

He'd had a flashback from the Cage, in an elevator in front of who he assumed was a government agent.

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

"Sam, calm down." Dean told him, attention immediately reverting back on him, and Sam clenched his fists tightly until his knuckles were white and shaking.

He took a deep breath and shoved the memories of hell that flashed through his mind firmly back to the heavy presence he had felt since he had come back from hell. There they would stay for the rest of his life, if it was possible. But now was not the time for a melodramatic breakdown.

"M'fine." Sam chanted the Winchester motto, slowly unclenching his fists and focusing his attention on the blank faced woman. She kept her emotions and her reaction off her face, which Sam reluctantly gave her credit for.

"What just happened?" she asked, her sharp eyes scanning him like a science specimen, or assessing him like an opponent in battle.

Sam scowled at the woman and struggled to make his words un-slurred as the drugs still in his blood made his eyes heavy and limbs leaden.

"N'thin happn'd." He mumbled, fighting to keep his eyes from slipping closed as the sudden draw of sleep grew stronger.

He glanced at his open hands, crescents marked on his palms from his fingernails digging into the skin. The pain didn't register, the reason he assumed was the drugs still in his system. He blinked long and slow, and glanced at Dean.

Dean nodded once and said "Alright bitch, here's the short story. Sam's been through the ringer and has little flashbacks now and then. Nothing serious and nothing dangerous at all. So you go back and report that to Captain Douchebag, or I'll kick your ass out and make sure you stay out."

The red head didn't make to leave, but uncrossed her legs and sat straight in her chair. Dean stood and walked around his cot, and reached the grab the woman by her shoulder and drag her out.

She caught Dean's wrist and twisted it, but there was no sign if it hurt Dean at all.

"Listen Winchester, you can't just walk around here and expect everyone to listen to you and fall into line like little soldiers. This isn't your ship to command, and I do not take any damn orders from anyone, especially guys who think themselves cut above everyone else because they have a flashy gun. So just shut up, or I will take you down to lock up and keep you there for the rest of your life, regardless of what Fury says. Your just a loose cannon walking around, and I do not have time for shitheads, got it?" she made to twist Dean's wrist even farther, but faster then Sam could keep up with, Dean was out of the wrist lock and had the red head pinned against the wall, one hand around her throat and the other pinning her two wrists against the metal on her left side.

"Hands off unless given permission, alright bitch?" he asked sarcastically, squeezing her throat tightly before releasing her and stepping back, the tension in his shoulders tightening before he turned and walked back to his seat. Sam didn't hear the red head move or anything, but after a few seconds, he glanced over and she was gone.

Dean ruffled his hair lightly, and gave him a smart ass smirk.

"Get some sleep Sammy boy. I'll make sure no chicks get their hands on you." Dean pushed his bangs from his eyes and patted his forehead, but Sam had closed his eyes and let himself drift off into non-drug induced sleep.

**UA part two now up and running. If you are going to complain about the length of the chapter compared to the last one, I'll warn you now and tell you, don't. I'm not running off one of those every update, so please don't ask. **

**Thank you to all the people who reviewed, I got a lot more feedback for this then I anticipated in the beginning. Sorry of any spots where they didn't sound like themselves, I'm still new to the whole 'Supernatural' writing perspective. **


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